


All the Colors in Disguise

by umadoshi (Ysabet)



Category: Newsflesh Trilogy - Mira Grant
Genre: Adopted Sibling Incest, Canon Disabled Character, Community: seasonofkink, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fellatio, Not quite PWP, Oral Sex, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Pre-Canon, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:40:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5054383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysabet/pseuds/umadoshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It's not every day one of the best-known east coast Irwins notices anything happening on our side of the continent, never mind devotes a full thirty seconds to it in their daily highlights show. Robin Fernandez singling Shaun out was almost guaranteed to have a long-term effect on his ratings, if Shaun could keep even a percentage of the new audience that had just been exposed to him.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I figured Shaun had more than earned some appreciative fangirling.</i>
</p>
<p>Smut set a few years before <i>Feed</i>; no series spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Colors in Disguise

**Author's Note:**

> \--Title from Of Monsters and Men's "Yellow Light"
> 
> \--Beta work by wildpear
> 
> \--Written for the "roleplay" theme at seasonofkink on Dreamwidth (for my wildcard square)

Everyone has different notions of what makes a perfect day. For me, it's usually simple things: no trace of a headache, a lot of solid work accomplished with minimal frustration, and a lot of people talking positively about that work--mine or Shaun's, but preferably both--once it's posted online. Things like that. But there's one absolutely vital ingredient, without which a day can't really move beyond "satisfying".

We have to have the house to ourselves. No intrusive questions to answer, no oppressive awareness of our parents' presence, and no chance of parental interruption of whatever we're doing, be it relaxation, work, or...other things.

Today everything had come together perfectly. There was informed, lively debate going on in the comments on my most recent post, and for the past week Shaun had been getting increasingly enthusiastic press from our peers after his latest big stunt. It's not every day one of the best-known east coast Irwins notices anything happening on our side of the continent, never mind devotes a full thirty seconds to it in their daily highlights show. Robin Fernandez singling Shaun out was almost guaranteed to have a long-term effect on his ratings, if Shaun could keep even a percentage of the new audience that had just been exposed to him.

Mom's name hadn't come up at all, and _that_ made it all the sweeter, especially since it had made her decide that she needed to go do something impressive of her own, stat. And after years of commentators offhandedly referring to him as "the son of Stacy Mason, one of the most influential journalists of our time", Shaun's work being praised with no name attached but his own was deeply satisfying for both of us.

Between his ratings, a dash of schadenfreude, and our unexpected weekend of privacy, I figured Shaun had more than earned some appreciative fangirling.

Once we had everything else squared away for the evening, I took advantage of the few minutes it took Shaun to carry a collection of coffee mugs downstairs and changed out of my work clothes. In their place I pulled on my lowest-cut jeans and a soft button-down shirt that doesn't _quite_ have the deepest neckline in my wardrobe, but that's cut low enough to never get worn out of the house.

By the time Shaun came back, I was waiting in his bedroom, posed suggestively on his chair. He walked in, blinked, and shot me a look that said he was pretty sure he knew what was on my mind, but was waiting for me to confirm.

I gave him a sly smile in return. "You have a security breach, Mr. Mason."

"And what might that be?" Two strides brought him to stand over me, on the edge of my personal space.

"I sweet-talked my way in here, and I'm hoping we'll like each other enough that I can tell you who opened the door." I leaned forward, letting him see right down my shirt. "I already know I like you. Do you think you might like me?"

There are very few situations in which Shaun isn't in the mood to play. I'm usually willing, but not prone to initiating, so he never misses the chance to take advantage of it when I do start the ball rolling.

With no hesitation, he flashed me one of his thousand-watt Irwin smiles that make plenty of girls besides me go weak in the knees. "You just might be my kind of girl, yeah."

"Gosh, I was hoping you'd think so." I stood up and touched a scar at the base of his throat--one of his newer ones, acquired only a year earlier. A zombie had gotten close enough to snatch at him, and they'd been in close quarters; Shaun had escaped through a hole in a wire fence that was big enough to let him pass, but not unscathed. The scar was narrow and still livid. I'd spent enough of our workday thinking about what we could do with our rare complete privacy that I'd been turned on before I even touched him, but that one point of contact, my fingertip on his pulse, made my heart pound dizzyingly. I spend too much of my life needing to hide how I respond to his skin on mine. "Because you're getting to be a bit of a legend in some circles."

Warmth and amusement glinted in his eyes, adding genuine intimacy to his professional flirtation. "I am, huh?" He wouldn't have the first clue what to do with a real groupie if one managed to get him alone, but he was happy to ham it up with me. He stroked the backs of his fingers along my cheekbone, touched a knuckle to my parted lips. "Ever fucked a legend, gorgeous?"

"No." I let my voice go breathless as I grazed my teeth and then the tip of my tongue over his finger. "I have to tell you I don't usually do stuff like this."

"Not 'usually'?" He gripped my hips and reeled me in close, exhaling across my ear. I practically melted into him, giddy at how hard he already was.

"More like never." I hooked my fingers into his belt loops, rubbing my body against his erection. "I'd never even _think_ about letting some swaggering Irwin boy screw me."

"No?" He kissed my cheek, then the corner of my jaw, making me push even closer. "You never watch the vids and imagine what's in those guys' pants? Never think how sweet it'd be if they had a big cock for you to ride?" He smiled as he teased, but his eyes were searing. "Guess you're a good girl, huh, Miss Security Breach?"

"Interesting question. Are you some kind of bad boy?"

"The worst," he said. We were both breathing heavily. I love some good foreplay, but I was more than ready to move past the verbal sparring.

Shaun was clearly on the same page. With no more preamble, he reached down the back of my jeans and all the way into my underwear, cupping his hand between my legs from behind. "I'm the kind of boy who sees a girl like you and thinks you look good enough to eat," he breathed, biting lightly at my ear. "You make me want to fuck that serious look right off your face."

I squirmed against his fingers until he pushed one up into me, as deep as he could from that angle. It wasn't much in terms of stimulation, but it was enough to send my body the message that there'd be more. I clenched my muscles around that teasing finger, and Shaun squeezed my ass hard in response.

"Tell me what you want," I said, unbuttoning my shirt until my bra showed. Shaun smirked, ogling my cleavage even more shamelessly than usual. "I don't kiss--or anything else--and tell." I grinned back at him. "I'll do anything."

"Anything?" His eyes went dreamy, but the question was serious--a quick check-in through the veneer of fantasy. He withdrew his hand from my underwear and touched a finger to his own lips, licking my wetness away.

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his throat, licking along the seam of the scar there. "Anything at all," I said, rocking back on my heels.

He unbuttoned my shirt the rest of the way and unclasped my bra, cradling my left breast in his hand. "What kind of good girl offers to let me do whatever I want?"

"Your choice of words, not mine," I reminded him. "So you tell me."

"What if I want to tie you up and fuck your ass?"

"Mmm." I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, letting him watch me imagine it. Shaun tends to verbalize fantasies outside our usual repertoire more often than he wants to actually enact them, and restraining me in any way rarely happens outside of explicit _play_. He might not feel like actually doing what he was envisioning.

But then again, we _were_ playing, and he might very well want it. I shivered, watching him right back. His eyes gleamed with speculative desire, imagining the scenario along with me; my entire body ached with yearning at the look on his face.

"Tie me how?" I asked.

He drew a fingertip across my ribcage, circling my hipbone and navel, then dipping lower. "Spread-eagled," he murmured. "Face down so I can rub your clit. Maybe put a nice fat dildo in your pussy while I'm at it."

I reached up and buried my hands in his hair, pulling his head down to mine. "Am I still a good girl when you're done with me?"

Shaun's laugh was hoarse and shaken. "The best." The kiss that followed was gentle. His voice wasn't. "For now, I want you to put that pretty mouth on my dick and suck."

I nipped his lower lip just hard enough to sting, then said, "My pleasure." Unzipping his jeans, I slipped my hand in and ran my thumb along his cock, appreciating the juxtaposition of velvet-soft skin and the hardness beneath it.

He moistened his lips. "Wait. First--" He hauled me against him, kissing me ferociously this time, as if the world supply of kisses were about to be depleted.

I returned the kiss hungrily, licking at his tongue until he groaned. His erection was pushing against me, hot and hopeful and--no matter how roughly Shaun likes to talk sometimes--so marvelously eager to please.

Once he let go of me, I yanked his shirt up and began kissing my way down his body, sending him staggering against the wall when I flicked my tongue against a nipple. A shudder went through him when I kissed just below his ribcage, caressing his abs and his hip with my open mouth. Then, more gently, I pushed his open jeans and boxers down out of my way as I knelt, parting my lips around the very tip of his cock and exhaling slowly down its length.

I paused there and held the pose, gazing up at him over my sunglasses. Waiting.

Shaun didn't leave me hanging. He slid both hands around my head, cradling it as he pressed into my mouth. I gave him my very best _I am **such** an eager groupie_ smile around the thickness of his cock.

"Good," he breathed. It could have been praise or appreciation; either way, the sound melted my spine, making me want to give him more, to take more of him. I pushed further, just once--just enough that my mouth was completely full--and eased back only when the need to breathe outweighed the impulse to push the limits of my comfort. I felt Shaun's silent laugh through his muscles, and I ignored it; sometimes I share his amusement that he can deep throat and I can't, but acknowledging it would pull him right out of the game.

Besides, it was easy enough to get his attention back where I wanted it. I licked slowly up the underside of his cock, ending in a practiced swirl of tongue. And then I gave him a lingering, thorough blowjob, soft noises of pleasure escaping us both with each rise and fall of my head. His fingers wound into my hair, not pulling, but _tense_ , like it was taking everything he had to both stay upright and not thrust forcefully.

"I'm gonna come if you keep going," he gasped. "Soon. You want that?"

I skimmed my fingers up his inner thighs, scraping my nails over taut muscle. Then I leaned back to look up at him again, keeping my mouth open so the head of his cock was resting on my tongue.

We stayed motionless like that while he stared down, his eyes shadowed with such pure, helpless lust that my entire body responded. I dropped a hand and touched myself lightly through my jeans, with Shaun's gaze locked on me; we both knew I wouldn't be able to get myself off that way without some determined effort, but it wasn't a wholly symbolic gesture. It was enough to get me wetter, and a clear signal of _Yes, do it._

Shaun gave me a minute nod of acknowledgment before slipping his cock right back into my mouth. In turn, I slipped back into a rhythm, relaxing my jaw as much as I could to accommodate his increasingly-reflexive movements.

_"Now,"_ he choked out. His voice was raw on the warning, bleeding his need into the air like ink into water. "Gonna come in your mouth, right down your throat, _God_ \--" He was shaking all over, struggling not to push in deep as he came; those final thrusts were hard but shallow, every pulse on my tongue mirroring a tremor of ecstasy in his body.

He grasped at me like I was the only thing in the world worth holding on to. One of his hands left my hair to stroke my cheek and down the side of my neck in a rough caress. "Christ, George, don't stop, please don't--"

There's an unparalleled embodiment and transcendence at moments like that. However fleetingly, Shaun was rooted so deeply in his body that nothing existed for him beyond its needs and my ability to sate them. And then, when orgasm almost completely un-tethered him, I was his anchor, the most sure and certain thing in his world.

I didn't stop. I just stroked his thighs, reveling in the familiar quiver of his legs as he slumped against the wall. His knees would buckle if I touched behind them, so I didn't. I simply kept my mouth closed around his cock, licking gently until he pulled out.

His hand changed position on my neck, thumb rubbing along my throat as if to belatedly feel me swallow. "Holy shit," he said, voice low with reverence, as he slowly sat in front of me. I grinned and parted my lips for his kiss when he leaned in. He always kisses me right after I blow him, exploring my mouth for his own flavor; I don't mind the aftertaste, even if I'm not as into it as he is into mine, but it's always struck him as only polite.

(He blushed the first time he said that to me--the first time he'd blushed in bed with me, and it was a long time before he ever did it again--and I laughed until he tackled me and wrestled me back down on the bed. He pinned me there while I giggled at the ridiculousness of that being the one place in our lives where he felt like he ought to be _polite_.)

"More?" I asked between kisses. "Is this the part where you tie me up?"

"It's the part where I take you to bed and we see what happens."

I nodded agreement. Shaun got us both to our feet and stripped out of his clothes, then undressed me in a more leisurely manner. He scooped me up easily, holding me like a princess--a stark naked, unbelievably horny princess, as evidenced by how wet my underwear was when he peeled it off me--and bumped his nose against mine as he slid fully back into the game.

He carried me to the bed and laid me down, reaching between my legs as he sprawled beside me and asked, "Now, what does a good girl with a wicked tongue want out of this?" He slipped a pair of fingers inside me without waiting for an answer, stroking roughly while his thumb worked my clit.

I tried to put myself in the shoes of the girl I was pretending to be--one of those dozens of girls who'd never been in Shaun's arms or bed, who poured out their hearts to him in emails that simmered with desire.

I curled closer and kissed his earlobe. "I want you to make me believe you'll always remember me."

"Not every day a hot girl sneaks in and sucks my dick," Shaun said. "Way more memorable than asking for my autograph."

A touch of tongue to the inner whorls of his ear made his fingers lose their rhythm inside me. "Fuck me like a girl you'd take to the prom," I said.

"You want me to make it special?" he murmured. When I nodded, he withdrew his hand from between my legs and put it on my shoulder, pushing me flat on my back. "One magic night, all moonlight and champagne and making love 'til morning?"

"I bet you don't do _that_ with all the girls."

"I really don't." His eyes were intent on my face. "You're not scared I'll fall in love with you?"

"Why would that be scary?" I asked.

If Shaun had a blithe answer for that, he didn't share. He lay down on top of me without another word, arranging himself so his half-hard cock was pressed between our bodies, and began kissing my neck, then my collarbones, then further down--taking his time, making sure to kiss and lick every inch of my skin. He lingered over one breast, shifting from a graze of his lips to rougher kisses and back, working up to the moment when he closed his mouth over the tender underside and sucked _hard_ \--not painfully, but close to it.

I made a noise somewhere between a cry of pleasure and a laugh. A thrilled groupie wouldn't know how much it turns Shaun on to leave marks on my body, or how rarely he does it, but _I_ knew. If he hadn't had a full erection again before he got his mouth on my chest, he sure did now. He licked and sucked there while I squirmed under him, panting from the sharp sensation; a bit of strategic wriggling let me close my thighs around his cock and then squeeze. He groaned against my skin, thrusting involuntarily.

"I'll do anything you want," I said, not having to feign the quiver of raw need in my voice. The game was in the choice of words, not in how badly I wanted him. "Anything. Just put in it me."

Shaun lifted himself back over me, glassy-eyed and gasping, but not past the point of teasing me. "What's the magic word?" he said, barely above a whisper.

"Please," I whispered back. "Just fuck me. Please." I couldn't begrudge him that bit of play--the handful of times I've gotten him to outright beg me for what he wants have been too hot for words. But Shaun gets off on the occasional round of orgasm denial in a way I don't, and my body was screaming for him. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling myself up instead of pulling him down. "Please," I repeated, nuzzling his throat and licking at his pulse. "Please."

He pressed me back down on the bed and pushed into me in a single steady thrust. I made an incoherent sound, and Shaun swore under his breath in that soft, awed way I adore.

Pure instinct took over. We could pretend all we wanted, but our bodies moved in practiced tandem. Shaun fucked me in missionary for a while, my legs comfortably around his waist while we kissed and kissed and kissed. The steadiness of his cock pumping in and out of me--and the knowledge that he'd be able to keep it up for a while, having gotten off so recently--made my nerves jangle and hum. I wouldn't be able to come from it, but warm pleasure flowed through me every time he moved.

"I love your cock," I said after one particularly deep thrust took my breath away. "I love how it fills me up."

Shaun buried his face against my neck, his breath heavy on my skin. "You'll make me come, talking like that." The muscles in his back trembled under my touch.

"Maybe that's what I want."

He shifted the angle of his hips, lifting himself up so that the next thrust was shallow, rubbing hard against my clit. "You sure?"

_Do you want me to get you off?_ was the mostly-unspoken question. The pleasure of that contact was sharper, making my eyes shut and my lips open, and it was _good_ \--it was hot and radiant, ready to drag me under--but no. Not what I wanted, not when it would break the subtler bliss of what he was already doing.

I squeezed my thighs at his waist, inviting him to sink back down. "Very sure."

"Okay." Shaun didn't argue--not through lack of desire to get me off, but because he knows to take me at my word in bed as readily as anyplace else. Putting his weight on his forearms, he grazed his lips against mine again, kissing me with a tenderness that made me deeply glad I was already flat on my back. I could melt into the bed, into the warmth and love of his mouth, the ever-more-urgent way he was fucking me, no longer trying to hold back. Wordless murmurs spilled back and forth between us, from my tongue to his; we were both too far gone to play at being anything but what we always were: _together_.

Shaun's kisses disintegrated when he came. I watched his face contort helplessly, and since I was anticipating it, I could feel the soft pulse as he ejaculated inside me, a sensation as delicate as his eyelashes brushing butterfly kisses onto my skin.

He rolled us both over onto our sides before he snuggled down into the bed and against me, holding me tight instead of needing to think about not crushing the breath out of me with his weight. "Know what I want now?"

"Tell me," I said.

"My sister."

"That's doable." I shut my eyes, slid my sunglasses off--unsurprisingly, the lenses had wound up smudged to hell, so while they were still protecting my eyes they weren't doing much for my vision anyway--and pressed my face against his throat. "Okay. Game over."

Shaun laughed. "Naturally, the sunglasses come off _after_ you're done playing pretend."

"I have this thing about being able to see," I retorted.

He didn't take the chance to point out that that didn't keep me from letting him blindfold me sometimes (or keep me from asking for it, which has more to do with not wanting to think about my eyes at all than with kinkiness). Sex doesn't keep us from bickering--nothing does--but cozy afterglow is almost always better than snarking at each other.

Instead, he said, "That was fun."

I kissed idly along his collarbone, lulled by the warmth of his body. "I thought so too."

"You know this counts as positive reinforcement for doing stunts that get me a shout-out from Robin Fernandez, right?"

"I'm calling it positive reinforcement for coming back alive. I guarantee that coming home dead will _not_ get you laid no matter how much Fernandez kisses your ass."

"Did you see the look on Mom's face?" Shaun asked rhetorically.

I sure had. She'd gone through an emotional progression we'd learned to recognize before we were out of high school--a complicated mix of pleasure at how Shaun's successes reflect on her, tainted by a wide streak of envy but brightened by a dash of genuine pride--but it had been the most intense iteration we'd ever seen.

Given that her aggravation had resulted in our having the house to ourselves, I couldn't find it in me to care.

I squirmed happily against him, pulling the blanket up over my head so I could crack my eyes open. Shaun grabbed the blanket's edge from my hand and yanked it further up to cocoon us both in, and moved so we were eye to eye in the dimness. "I'm so proud of you," I said.

"And a lovely way you have of showing it." He pressed his forehead to mine and added, more softly, "And yeah, I know. Thanks."

"Always," I said, and kissed him again.


End file.
